Billy's On The Case
by Mardy Lass
Summary: Murdock's lost Billy, Face is losing his patience, BA wants his holiday, and Hannibal just wants this 'simple' case solved. Easy! Friendships will be tested, lies will be told, fights will be started. How episodically canon-tastic can you get?
1. One

**Author's Note:**

_Definitely based on the TV series characters - I don't know the movie people well enough. Which says something about the update, doesn't it?_

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**One**

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He rolled over onto his front, slipping the pillow out from under him and jamming it over his ears in the darkness.

"Because I'm only asking," came the insistent voice from the other side of the room, "and you'd be the right person to ask - I mean, you knowing about wandering ways, an' all."

"Murdock," he protested from under the pillow, "could you give it a rest until at least five a.m.?"

"But I'm worried, man!" the other bed cried nervously. "What if he never comes back?"

Face pulled in a deep breath, huffing it out so stoutly it was a wonder he didn't make a hole in the pillow. "Then he'll just have to go it alone!" he urged. "Now _please_, Murdock, for the love of God, could you-"

"But he can't go it alone!" Murdock moaned. "He's too young to live by himself! Do you remember how long it took me to housetrain him?" he demanded. "What if someone else takes him in and they don't know the right food to get him? He's very particular about his food, you know!"

"Billy will be fine. He's a dog. Dogs survive," Face bit out.

"You could be right," Murdock havered.

"And he survived before you got him, right?"

"He did…"

"So he'll be fine. And who says he's not coming back? For all you know, he could be peeing up some tree, thinking right now about how to track his way back here. And that van's got a huge tailpipe. He'll smell his way back if he wants to," Face went on, in his very best convincing voice.

"Yes! Yes it does! Maybe he's on the way back right now!" Murdock cried, overjoyed.

"Like I said. Now please, stop talking to me. It's been a long day and I really, _really_ need some sleep."

"Ok, Faceyman. Whatever you say," he agreed, and from his tone of voice, Face just _knew_ he was grinning ear to ear.

"Thank you," he groaned, trying to relax.

Silence descended upon the motel room, settling on everything very slowly, watching the two beds on opposite sides of the enclosed space.

"Yeah, see? Told you it would be ok," came Murdock's voice from the pitch. It changed into a surprisingly gruff tone that made Face jump: "I know. If you'd asked me instead of that grumpy dude, I'd-a told you the same!"

Face opened his eyes, his jaw already jutting right out in abject impatience. He pushed the pillow off his head slowly, levering himself up on his right elbow to look across the room in the gloom. "Murdock," he said patiently.

"Yeah, I know," Murdock said soothingly, "but Face is my friend. I needed to hear it from him."

"Murdock," Face urged, a little louder.

"Well sure you did," Murdock's gruff voice said. "But I seen people like you folks come through here all the time, I know a good bunch of people when I see it, and I knows you people are good enough. Billy's coming back, just you wait."

"Murdock!" Face shouted.

"Aw, thanks man," Murdock said, a daffy grin glaringly obvious from his voice. "That's very kind of you to say."

"Right, that's it!" Face raged. He yanked back the covers of his bed, swinging his feet to the floor and marching in nothing but a very expensive pair of blue Ralph Lauren pyjama bottoms to the side of Murdock's bed.

The Captain gasped and twisted onto his back, looking up at him with surprise but then a winning smile. "Hi," he gushed. "I thought you were sleeping?"

Face's hands went down. Murdock let out a short sharp girlie scream, squirming to the side. But Face's hands snatched up a pillow and raised it menacingly.

"Murdock, I swear, if you don't stop talking at me and let me sleep, I will ram this pillow so far down your throat-"

"I wasn't talking to you!" Murdock cried quickly in fear. "I wasn't!"

"Oh yeah?" Face demanded.

"Yeah!" Murdock shot back. "I know you're the good-looking one, but really, you do have an inflated sense of self - there are _other_ people here, you know!"

Face just raised the pillow higher. Murdock put both hands out to stop him.

"Wait!" he pleaded. "I wasn't talking to you - I was talking to Sal!" He uncurled the fingers of his right hand to reveal a round piece of soap, lovingly wrapped in a paper covering that read 'Mary's Rest Motel, Topping'. "See? Ain't he cute! You gotta admit, he's the coolest little free soap we ever got from one of these places! And he talks back, too!"

Face just emitted the kind of high-pitched, tortured whine which would have beaten even an emotionally-shredded Billy in the piteousness stakes. He staggered a whole step back, dropping the pillow to the pilot's bed and wheeling around on the spot. Murdock sat up, watching him go resolutely to his bed. Face grabbed the blankets, pulling them free and wrapping them round his arm. Then he walked slowly to the door, his hand landing on the doorknob before Murdock realised what he was doing.

"Hey, where you going?" he called cheerfully. "You need a soda? There's a vending machine on the third floor."

"I'm going to find an open window," Face said tonelessly, even as he opened the door.

"Why?" Murdock asked innocently. "You shouldn't get too close to them - people leap out of them all the time at the VA hospital. Makes a mess."

_Don't think it hadn't crossed my mind_, Face pouted. "I'm going to keep a look-out for Billy," he managed.

"Ngaw, thanks man! You're the best friend I ever had!" Murdock gushed.

Face stepped out quickly and closed the door with a firm click, leaning back on it. He took a deep breath, let it out in a steady stream, and tried to clear his mind. He could already hear a fun conversation going on inside the room again, catching phrases like '_Faceman's the best_' and '_I could tell he was your friend_' before he decided he really had to find a different place to stand.

Dragging his blankets over his arm, and his sense of guilt away from his friend's innocence, he turned to his left and began to walk to the end of the corridor. He passed the other doors, ignoring the numbers and the feel of the warm carpet beneath his feet. He stopped at the doors at the end, opening the large glass exit and stepping outside.

Closing the door behind him, he let himself start to relax as he surveyed the countryside right by the hotel. There, on the second floor, he found a stillness and serenity he knew would go very well with his desire to sleep until either Hannibal or BA decided to find out why he wasn't at breakfast. Or perhaps lunch.

He nodded to himself, uncurled the blankets to throw them round his shoulders, and took the few steps to get round the stanchion that led to the loungers. He fancied he could already feel the firm support of one in his back, the warm night breeze over his face, the absolute certainty of a quiet place to curl up and rest.

As he turned the corner he felt an almost overwhelming sense of unease about having been so angry with Murdock. He shook his head, consigning the spat to the pile of ammunition that would serve them well in the round-robin competition of winding each other up.

_I'm kind of glad he won though, this time. I think_. He pushed it all from his tired brain, lifting his watch to find it creeping up to two o'clock in the morning.

A sound of creaking wood made him stop and glance up. He had time to see a young woman putting her hands to the wooden railings of the balcony. She seemed intent on pushing to lift herself over them.

Two things went through his head: _36-29-38_, and _Murdock was right about the open windows_.

He threw the blankets out of his way. Leaping over a lounger, he grabbed at her sides from behind. "What are you doing?" he cried, appalled.

"Let go of me!" the woman protested.

Face did no such thing. In fact, he pulled back so hard she was wrenched from the railings and pummelled into him. They went flailing backwards with matching cries of dismay, landing on the decking right between the two available - and soft - loungers.

_So much for luck_, he grumped, knowing the back of his head and his elbows were really going to protest such forceful contact in a scant few minutes. However, the rest of him was quite amenable to the realisation that the woman was now spread-eagled on her back - on top of him. _Actually, it could be worse_, he thought.

She squirmed and he helped her roll off him, already snapping-to, ready to help her up. She grasped at his arms, letting him lift her until she was sitting on the edge of the lounger behind her. Her fingers dug into his skin, and he looked down, getting his own breath back.

"You're ok," he said quickly. "Look, take a breath, alright? Relax a little."

She nodded, dragging in air and then daring to look up. Her breath stopped for an entire second as she stared at him. Then she remembered to breathe again. "I know what this must look like," she managed.

Face glanced around, didn't spot anything remotely helpful, and instead shuffled to one side, sitting on the lounger next to her. She let go of his arms quickly.

"Really?" he breathed, taking in her flawless face, her flowing light brown hair, the green eyes and perfect nose. Her faded blue t-shirt trembled as she got her equilibrium back, her jeans leaning against his pyjamas as she began to let her muscles ease. "Do you have a name?" he tried slowly.

"Debbie," she nodded, then pushed herself away from him with an abrupt attempt at propriety, looking him up and down as she slid further up the lounger to put a discreet distance between them. "What are you doing out here?"

"If I _told_ you, you wouldn't believe me," he sighed, before running a hand through his hair. "Are you still thinking of throwing yourself off the balcony? Or can I relax a little? It's just that it's hard to sleep if you think someone's going to make a mess like that."

She actually smiled, which caused him to do the same. _Bingo_, he heard in his head.

"I wasn't throwing myself off a balcony, I was-. Never mind. Do _you_ have a name?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair to pull it from her face, flicking it over her shoulder.

"Templeton," he blurted, as if kicked.

"Sounds like a lawyer name to me. Are you a lawyer?"

"Sometimes," he said, then clamped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat. "So listen, ah… Are you going to be ok? I mean, do you want someone to be your suicide watch?"

"Do you come with experience?" she asked.

Face's mouth opened. His expression flipped from wickedly mischievous to way-too-innocent at the reply that came to mind, so he closed his potential smut-peddling device again quickly. She giggled, her nose wrinkling slightly in her amusement, and he beamed, using his entire complement of teeth.

_Jackpot_, he nodded to himself.

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"Well I'm worried about him, Colonel," Murdock moaned, watching both Hannibal and BA go about the serious business of demolishing pancakes, orange juice, black coffee and milk as if it were a Morrison-mandated order of action itself.

"Now, Murdock," Hannibal said slowly, "what are the odds he found some girl, and therefore ways _other_ than your valuable insight to be kept up all night?"

"Pretty good," Murdock said glumly. "But he was really down when he left! It was like Billy disappearing really got to him, you know?"

"You said the dog was invisible, fool!" BA barked suddenly. "How can he 'disappear'?"

"BA has a point," Hannibal said firmly, putting down his coffee cup and looking up at the now pacing pilot. "We'll give Face until lunchtime, Captain. Then maybe we'll go roust him from whatever girl's caught his eye this time."

"Yes Colonel," Murdock said quietly, turning away and bouncing down on the chairs under the television. He folded his arms across his bright red t-shirt that read '_RAWR is 'I love you' in dinosaur_' and was ostensibly content to watch the news channel.

BA leaned a little closer to Hannibal across the table. "If you ask me, Face just ran off before all that crazy man's talk drove him nuts too."

Hannibal's smile was small but perfectly formed. "Face has more experience with Murdock. He knows when to run," he agreed, an amused glint to his bright blue eyes. "I'm sure he's just in some spare room he's managed to wrangle from the staff, sleeping like the dead."

"Huh," BA judged, eschewing the coffee to refill his glass of milk. "Faceman don't sleep like the dead," he observed. "He just moans a lot."

"Well at least we're not there to hear them. -_It_," Hannibal corrected himself, as he stuck a fork in the pancake with a lot of relief.

BA shook his head. He went back to the idea of milk - with just as much relief.

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_Wheeee! And here we go, writing for another fandom I said I'd never do... _


	2. Two

**Two**

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The door to the breakfast room opened and the only three occupants looked up to find the fourth member of their private survival club poke his head round the doorjamb.

"Face!" Murdock shouted, overjoyed. "I thought you'd disappeared, like Billy did!"

"Ah, ah, no," Face replied edgily, looking around the room quickly.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked suspiciously, and Face looked at him.

"I might have stumbled onto a job," he said nervously, trying a weak smile.

"We're on vacation," BA challenged, turning to glare at the head round the door with a look that could have set fire to the paintjob beside it. "And we ain't even reached it yet!"

"I know, I know," Face said quickly, walking in. It was then that the others noticed he was pulling something by the hand. Or rather, someone.

"Hi," Debbie said awkwardly, waving her free hand. BA stared. Hannibal re-organised his face into an expression of polite interest. Murdock shot to his feet.

"Face!" he accused. "You said you were going to watch for Billy!" He looked the Lieutenant up and down, finding him in the same blue Ralph Lauren pyjama bottoms, but now with the added extra of a hotel bathrobe tied over the top.

"And I was!" Face protested. He closed the door, letting go of Debbie's hand to lift both of his in surrender. "Believe me, I was. But then I saw Debbie here about to do a double-axle over the railings and-"

"I was not," she said resolutely, folding her arms and taking her weight on one leg. "That's a lie, Templeton."

"Alright - I _thought_ she was about to jump," he corrected. "She wasn't jumping, she was trying to get her case back from the room downstairs."

"Case?" Hannibal asked wearily.

"Yeah," Face shrugged, as if it were ice-cream covered in chocolate sauce on Murdock's birthday. "Just… a case."

"You said you were going to watch for Billy!" Murdock accused again.

"I was multi-tasking!" Face shot back. "_Anyway_ - Debbie's explained why she was trying to climb down a floor of the hotel with nothing but good luck and determination, and I've told her we might be able to help."

"And what about Billy?" Murdock asked. His hand slipped out of his right trouser pocket and he lifted the small, paper-wrapped soap. "Hey man," he growled, in a very rough voice, "I thought you said this Faceman dude was your friend?" He pouted, waving his left hand at the soap. "He is!" he retaliated in plaintive rebuttal. "He just gets side-tracked by beautiful women."

"For your information," Face said firmly, "Debbie was telling me her story."

"And then we had pancakes in my room," she nodded. "With blueberries."

"You had blueberries on pancakes and you didn't save some for me?" Murdock asked in a very small voice that told tales of kicked puppies and small furry kittens brandishing piteous _mewl_s to get what they want.

"I knew you'd have some in here," Face protested, in a voice that suggested he wasn't as clear on that point right now as he had been. "Can we get back to Debbie's case?"

"The case of Debbie's case," Murdock gruffed, as if his throat were filled with razor blades. "I like it, 'Dock." He switched to his normal - if that word applied - voice. "Yeah, sounds mysterious." He looked back at Debbie. "So what's with the case?" He came right up to her, looking her over as if searching for gold in her hair or up her nose. She just watched him, trying not to let him unnerve her.

Face leapt forward and grabbed Murdock's arm, pulling him away. "You're not helping," he hissed from the side of his mouth.

"We haven't been introduced," Hannibal said deliberately, getting to his feet. "I'm Hannibal Smith, this is BA," he said, waving a palm at the still seated man who looked as though his day would be much improved if everyone just stopped talking. "The energetic one is Murdock."

Murdock grabbed the peak of his cap and nodded respectfully. "And this is Sal," he said, lifting the soap in his hand.

"Murdock, will you knock it off?" Face warned, turning the pilot's face from cautiously cheerful back to pouting in petulance. "I'll keep my eye out for Billy if you just sit and listen."

"I don't know," Murdock warned him in return, taking steps back to eye the Lieutenant with grudging suspicion. "You weren't looking out for him last night."

"I was!" Face spluttered, his hands to his chest. "I scoured the countryside all night looking for that dog - and that's not easy when he's invisible, know what I mean!"

He looked at Debbie. "Was he really looking for Billy?"

"He mentioned a dog," she said lamely.

Murdock looked at Face with a resolute expression. "Then I apologise, Faceyman. I should have trusted you."

"Ok, great, wonderful," Face rattled off dismissively. "Debbie's case?"

"Debbie," Hannibal interrupted loudly. "Do you have a surname?"

"Winters," she nodded.

"Why don't you sit down and tell us about this case of yours," Hannibal said slowly, and the other three noted the weariness on his face.

If Debbie noticed or recognised it, she gave no sign. Instead she came forward and sat slowly, leaning her forearms on the table and lacing her fingers. "I told Templeton last night," she said edgily. "I'm just passing through. My business partner died some weeks ago, so I sold the business to the bank and decided to go to my brother's place in South Dakota. I got the final pay-off from my sale a few days ago, so I've been driving and staying wherever I pass on the highway."

"And the case?" Hannibal pressed.

"Debbie's business partner - Frank - made the company a lot of money," Face said, his hands now in the pockets of his robe. "When she sold the business, Debbie here cleaned up. The case contains nearly five hundred thousand dollars in bonds - and that's not even all of it."

"Five hundred thousand!" Murdock gasped. "Imagine how many oranges you could buy for five hundred thousand dollars! Enough to feed all the monkeys in all the zoos!"

"Monkeys eat bananas, fool," BA grunted.

"No they don't, they eat oranges," he shot back grumpily. "I read it in _National Geographic_."

BA just growled at him. Murdock stuck his tongue out.

"The point is," Face said quickly, "this guy staying on the first floor? He's a… business associate of Frank, Debbie's old partner. Seems this guy - what's his name?"

"Spencer," she put in helpfully.

"Spencer," Face nodded. "Seems he thinks Frank owed him money, and he's followed her here and last night, he took the case."

"Why is he still here? Why not leave as soon as he got it?" Murdock asked.

"See, this guy doesn't travel alone, and he doesn't figure Debbie for the fighting type," Face explained. "Boy, was he wrong."

Hannibal looked at the woman sat at his breakfast table. "And what do you want us to do?"

"To be honest, I don't really want you to do anything," she said quietly. "But I know I can't get that case back without help - which I can pay you for. I was so desperate last night I actually tried to climb down the trellis."

"Not a good idea," Face piped up. "That trellis would have supported maybe sixty, seventy pounds? And it doesn't actually go all the way down to the first floor - oh, and did I mention the two men this Spencer guy has with him?"

"How do you know it's two?" Murdock asked.

"The receipt on the shoe-shine bill sticking out of his doorjamb this morning," Face beamed.

"Maybe he's just one guy with a truck-load of shoes," Murdock pointed out.

"All different sizes?" Face challenged.

"Good detective work," Murdock nodded, pointing at him.

"Uh, Face?" Hannibal said politely, getting to his feet. "Can I have a word with you please?"

Face let out a small groan of reluctance, following Hannibal outside to the patio area. The older man closed the door with a decisive click, folding his arms and pinning the man in the hotel bathrobe with an expression of weary irksomeness.

"Now, Lieutenant… Please tell me you're asking us to lift a single case because she's going to pay us money, and it will take barely one afternoon," he said firmly.

"I thought she was throwing herself over, Hannibal!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "What was I supposed to do, watch? Give her dive marks out of ten?"

"You know, this is beginning to sound like that local girl in Vietnam… What was her name? Louie Mai?"

"Oh come on - she was a pickpocket-"

"And you paid her fine when the MPs picked her up for targeting us soldiers, taught her how to do it properly so she wouldn't get caught the next time-"

"Debbie's not a pick-"

"_And_," Hannibal continued, drowning him out, "you even gave her the chocolate Murdock gave _you_ because he felt sorry for you never getting any parcels from home. Then she picked _your_ pocket and even your bag, leaving you with twenty bucks and a Swiss Army knife," Hannibal supplied. "Ring any bells?"

"What's that got to do with-"

"How do you know this Debbie is telling the truth, that it's really her case and she's not just trying to steal it?" he pressed. "And even if she's not, it wouldn't be the first time a girl has flipped her hair and made you agree with any story she's come out with."

"That's unfair," Face protested, pointing at him. "Firstly, Louie only stole my money and my fatigues because she needed to get out of the country and she couldn't do it with Vietnamese _dong_s as the only currency in her pocket," he said hotly. "Secondly, Debbie couldn't have known I would be on that balcony, and her hotel room checks out."

"Don't tell me you went through her purse without her knowing?"

"With the stunts Decker has pulled on me in the past? You better believe it," he shot back with a confident smile that spoke of an effort not to look embarrassed. "Look, either the US Government is finding the most amazing forgers the world has ever seen just to try and fool me into thinking her name really _is_ Debbie Winters and she paid money into the back on behalf of Stone and Winters Ceramic Limited, I think we're pretty safe here. She's got a driver's license, bank books, everything."

"And you don't think it's possible she made it all up?"

"It's always possible," Face allowed. He looked at his feet for a moment. "But…" He shrugged uneasily. "I believe her."

Hannibal let the idea roll around his head for long few seconds, during which he eyed the Lieutenant with consideration. "Is this gut instinct? Or does it come from lower down?"

Face didn't look at him. Instead his hands went to his hips and he rocked on his heels in his hotel slippers. "If I'm honest? Gut first."

"First," Hannibal said meaningfully. "Alright. Tell me about this Spencer guy."

Now Face did meet his eyes. "Real piece of work - you know what he did a few months back?" he said vindictively. "Closed an orphanage in Montana to build a mart on it."

"Oh, Lieutenant," Hannibal breathed, his face taking on a grin of massive proportions. He lifted his right hand, patting down on Face's shoulder. "Did she get lucky, or did she really do her homework on you?"

"Look, no, it's-"

"I think," Hannibal said, with the same shit-eating grin, "we'll take the case. We'll get her bonds back. But you'll have to take one for the team."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Face asked fearfully.

Hannibal gave a short chuckle. "Someone's going to have to stick close to her, find out why she's made up this cockamamy story to get you - and by extension, all of us - involved." He patted firmly as Face's mouth began to flex, working out how to start with his protestation. "Someone's going to have to stay with her, get on her good side, find out what her real motivation is."

"You mean, pretend I'm buying all this and pump her for information, so I can find out what's really going on?"

Hannibal beamed. "Consider yourself undercover, Lieutenant."

Face gave a decidedly weak attempt at a laugh. "Right," he moaned.

"Look at it this way - if you're right, then she's in the clear and we just get her case. I'm sure she'll be very grateful. Both financially and personally."

"And if _you're_ right?"

"Then you might be looking at something a little less fun than blueberry pancakes," he grinned, patting again.

"How do I get into these situations?" he wheezed plaintively.

"Comes with the 'Vette," Hannibal commiserated. "You know your trouble?" he asked flippantly, with another wide grin. "You're too trusting."

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	3. Three

**Three**

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Breakfast finished and cleared away, Debbie had been escorted back to her room, leaving the four men to occupy Hannibal and BA's balcony. BA had the far lounger, his hands laced in his lap, clearly in riotous disapproval of any movement or inclination that included stress. Hannibal was stretched out on the other lounger, happy now he had his cigar and a coffee. Murdock had his elbows on the railings, looking down over the side and muttering to himself. Now that Face was showered and impeccably dressed, he was leaning back against the same railings, further along, with his arms folded.

"So the first thing we have to do is check out this case - and that means getting in the room and finding it. Face?" Hannibal asked.

"Room service would be the easiest. We knock on the door, they let us in, we grab the case, simple," Face replied serenely.

"Are you sure this Spencer guy is so easily accessible?" Hannibal asked. "Something tells me he won't leave the case in plain view by the couch."

"I didn't say it would be _easy_," Face observed. "I said it would be _simple_."

"I don't like it," BA announced, spitting the words out as if they had been making his mouth taste funny. "We supposed to be on vacation, Hannibal."

"This won't take long," Hannibal said pointedly, with a deliberate look at Face.

"And _then_ we can get to the cabin?" BA continued.

"Yes," Hannibal replied patiently. He thought for a second. "I don't think room service is the way to go," he added.

"Hotel security? A safe check?" Face hazarded. "He'd have to open the safe for us."

"Uh-uh," Murdock said suddenly, still hanging his head over the balcony. "Too obvious."

"Then we'll have to do something he'll never see coming," Hannibal said with a broad smile, grabbing the cigar in his teeth and turning to BA. "We need a distraction."

"Don't be looking at me, Hannibal," he warned.

"Now, BA," he said patiently. "Think about it - we need someone who can sniff stuff out, run fast, and look good making a careful and efficient inventory of a room."

Face straightened up off the balcony, sliding a preening hand down the front of his Argyle sweater. He squared his shoulders, tipping his head to his left with a humble shrug as began to open his mouth.

"Billy?" Murdock interrupted.

"Billy," Hannibal nodded, his face stretching in a grin so wide it could have been mistaken for the Amazon.

"Billy?" Face demanded, crestfallen.

"But Colonel - Billy's not here!" Murdock protested.

"That's the beauty of it, Captain," he said, waving his cigar at him momentarily. "He doesn't need to be."

"Oh," Murdock allowed happily, before his face twisted into abject confusion. "Huh?"

Hannibal chuckled. BA moaned and rolled his eyes: "He's on the jazz now."

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* * *

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The two men lounged around the room, the magazines and newspapers in their hands bravely doing their best to stave off the boredom. Both tall and built for quarterback status, the dark suits they wore were a direct contrast to the Hawaiian shirt of the third man, just stepping in off the balcony.

"Oh yeah," he sighed, grinning. "This has been a very productive week. Time we were leavin', I think."

"Yes Mr Spencer," one of the men said, before a pounding shocked them all into looking at the main door to the hotel room.

"Get that, see who it is," Spencer said quickly.

While one man stood, the other man crossed to the door, looking through the spyhole. He looked back at the man in the Hawaiian shirt, shrugging. "It's just a man. Don't look serious."

"Open it. Get rid of them."

"Yes sir." He turned the handle and began to open the door, but it burst inwards. Had he been slighter of frame, he would have been sent across the room. Instead he stumbled back as a man rushed into the room, his arms flailing in an effort to bring him to a stop before he tested the opposite wall for impact strength.

"Billy!" he cried, distraught, his hands in his seriously handsome sandy hair, his face a rictus of heartbreak. He grabbed the man next to him by the lapels of his black suit jacket, shaking him slightly. "Have you seen him? Have you seen him? He was just here! I swear!"

The man grabbed his arms and peeled him off his jacket, holding him at arms' length. He simply looked over at the man in the Hawaiian shirt.

"What the Hell are you doing in my room, pal?" Spencer demanded.

"Billy!" Face cried piteously. "I tried looking after him - I did!" he raged. "But he's all temperamental and he didn't like the food I got him and he chewed all my shoes and Murdock never said anything about the biscuits - how was I to know?" he demanded, grabbing the man's lapels again. "_How was I to know?_" he wailed into his face.

"Look, pal, you're in the wrong room and I-"

Another men stepped in through the doorframe. "Templeton?" he demanded cautiously, in a rather clipped British accent. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing!" Face heaved, dragging himself away from the man in the suit. "Nothing at all! Just saying hi to other guests!"

The taller man's face went to each of the three men. "Good morning," he said suspiciously.

"Morning. Now would take your friend and get out of my room?" Spencer said.

"Of course. So sorry to have troubled you," the man said neatly in his _terribly British_ voice, walking in and putting his hand to Face's elbow. "Come along."

"Look - just - just wait, I'll catch you up," Face protested, but the man pulled.

"We're leaving for our vacation, Templeton. Now." The man halted. He looked down at the floor, then around his legs. Finally, he looked up at Face. "Where's Billy?"

Face launched himself backwards to get clear. "I didn't want to have to tell you this," he rattled off quickly. "I wanted to find him first-"

"Find him?" the man snapped. "You mean you've-. Oh dear God, don't tell me you've _lost him_?"

"Well - he kinda - and then I - and - and-." Face squirmed in upset - but then he took a deep breath. "It was _your_ fault, Murdock!" he raged suddenly, pointing at him. "You didn't say _anything_ about _biscuits_!"

Murdock folded his arms. "So you let him run away? Again?" he snapped coldly.

"_No_ I didn't let-. Wait, what do you mean, again?" Face shouted. "You mean he's done this before?"

"Only when he was really unhappy," Murdock shot back.

"Fellas! Fellas!" Spencer called. "Take this outside, huh?"

"Stay out of this!" Murdock hurled, making the man actually want to take a step backwards. Murdock looked back at Face. "You were supposed to be my friend! You were supposed to look after him! And now I find you're not giving him biscuits and he's running away!"

"Well if you'd _told_ me about the damn biscuits in the first place-"

"Oh yes, that's right - blame everyone else!" Murdock raged.

"That's it," the man interrupted. "I'm calling security."

"Stay out of this!" Face shouted. He pointed at Murdock. "You see? You see what happens when you don't take care of your own dog!"

"Well excuse me for thinking you were _friend_ enough to help me out!" Murdock shouted.

"I _was_ helping you out!"

"How? Losing my dog for me?"

"Why you-" Face launched himself at the taller man. The two suits stepped in and grabbed a man each, hauling them backwards to leave them both growling to be set free, Face's feet coming off the floor to kick out.

"Now you two just stay there," the man said, the telephone already in his hand. "I'm having you thrown out!"

"Thrown out of where?" Face asked quickly, eyeing the balcony with nervous experience.

"The hotel, numbnuts," he warned.

"Ahh - via the door or window?" Face pressed, without about as much trepidation as a gazelle on a plain full of lionesses.

Spencer ignored him, leaning the receiver into his ear. "Yeah, hi. I'm in 142, and there are a coupla guys I want ejected. No, they just barged in looking for some dog." He nodded at the receiver. "Yeah. So get up here and take them away before I do something I'll regret." He slammed the phone down into its cradle. "Now stand still," he said firmly.

"How would you feel if someone lost the keys to your car?" Murdock snapped, with remarkable British poise for someone so angry.

"How would you feel if someone opened up your Sal and used him to wash his hands, cos _you didn't tell anyone not to_?" Face retaliated.

Murdock growled and struggled. Face lashed out with a foot.

"Alright already! Stop!" the man shouted over the top.

"Sshh!" Murdock hissed suddenly, standing stock still. The room went silent. He turned his head to the right. "Did you hear that?" he whispered at Face.

Face tilted his head, his eyes wide as he listened. Then he gave a tiny jolt that surprised the man holding onto his arms. "I heard _that_!" he said quickly. "It's Billy!"

"Billy!" Murdock called. "You've come back! Come here, boy!"

The five of them waited. Nothing moved.

"Billy!" Murdock shouted again.

"Look mister, there ain't no dog in my room," Spencer said. "You're hearing things."

"No! I heard Billy!" Murdock said. He looked at Face. "Didn't you?"

"Billy!" Face called urgently. "Billy, come out of the nice man's bedroom!"

"Woah, he's in my bedroom?" the man in the Hawaiian shirt protested. "Get him out! I'm not having some dog slobber all over my clothes!"

"Billy!" Murdock and Face cried together.

A knock was heard at the door. Everyone looked over. "Security," came a friendly voice.

Spencer crossed to the door and wanged it open smartly. He found himself looking at a man, wearing a rather nice jacket with the hotel's badge on the right, his hands folded neatly behind him and his white hair impeccably groomed.

"You called for security, sir?" he asked.

"About time," the man nodded. "Get these two clowns out of here."

"Yes sir," the man said, walking into the room and looking Murdock and Face up and down. "Come on then, sir and… sir," he said, glancing at them both. "Let's leave quietly."

"Billy!" Murdock cried. "Get out here right now!"

"Wait - sir," Face said quickly. "We gotta get my friend's dog back, or I'll never live it down. He's in there."

"A dog?" the security man gasped. "You brought a dog to this hotel? Is he a seeing-eye dog?"

"No sir, he's a sniffer dog," Murdock interrupted. "He can sniff out anything - cookies, baseball cards, soap - even missing contact lenses!"

"Dogs are not allowed in this hotel, sir," the white-haired security man said with a frown.

"But he's a marvellous specimen of a dog!" Murdock protested. "I'm telling you - drop a wee slip of a valet parking receipt _anywhere_ in this hotel, and Billy will find it for you! He'll bring it right to you! He loves people!"

"So why's he always running away?" Face said innocently. "Sniffer dog," he snorted in contempt. "You're making that up, Murdock."

"I am not!" he raged, struggling to be free once more.

"Alright, stop!" the security man said quickly, raising his hands. "Why don't we go get the dog and the three of you can leave the hotel as soon as you're packed."

"Good idea!" Spencer announced.

The security man turned and looked at him. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience here, Mr… Spencer, is it?"

"Yeah, that's me," he nodded. "Just get rid of these two - and get that dog out of my room!"

"I will, sir." He turned to look at the door to the bedroom. "May I, sir?"

"Go ahead - get it out."

"Thank you, sir." The security man went to the door, opening it slowly and putting his head in. He paused for a long moment. Then he went in and closed the door.

The five of them looked at each other. Face gave a nervous smile and nodded in a friendly manner, before Murdock tutted at him. Face turned his attention to him and poked his tongue out. Murdock poked his tongue out too, and Face jumped as if slapped, apparently finding it all too appallingly rude for words.

They heard a voice and muffled thump, a canine yelp and a scuffle. They looked over at the door with varying degrees of worry. Another bump and a shuffle, a creak at the door and a man's voice. A dog bark, a man's order, and then a crash and a tinkle.

Spencer dodged round them all to make for the door. Murdock wrenched himself free of the man in the suit and went after him.

Suddenly the door opened and the security man appeared. "Well, there _was_ a dog," he said, dusting down his arms. He looked up to pin a disapproving gaze on Murdock. "But it went out of the window."

"What!" Murdock howled in worry. He turned and sped out of the room.

Face struggled and the man let him go, and he too sprinted out of the room. The security man stepped to one side, watching as Spencer barrelled into the hotel bedroom.

"If there's nothing else, sir?" the security man asked.

"No, no, everything looks fine," he called from inside the room.

"Well then. Gentlemen," he said. "I apologise for this morning's antics. They will not happen again." He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

.

* * *

.

BA looked up, saw the window open on the first floor, and stepped back. A large clear plastic wrapper full of something white dropped from the window and he spread his arms under it, catching it easily. He looked at the neatly vacuum-sealed stacks of papers and chuckled wickedly, turning and carrying it off round the side of the hotel to the car park. He opened the door to the large black van, whisked the duffelbag off the passenger seat, and pushed it inside.

Still chuckling, he threw the duffel over his shoulder and jogged round to the front door of the hotel, his free hand keeping his gold in place over his chest, as he chortled his way to the lifts.

A short ride and a quick walk later and he was knocking on the door to room 279. It opened and he looked Hannibal up and down in his hotel security uniform.

"Very nice, Hannibal," he smiled.

"Good work diverting the phone, BA," he replied cheerfully.

BA walked in and deposited the bag on the table in the middle of the room. "Got it."

"You got it?" came a voice, and Debbie's head emerged from the balcony. "You really got it!"

"Yeah, we really got it," Hannibal said slowly.

"That's great!" she cried, relieved. "I don't know how to thank you!"

Face appeared from the balcony, closing the door behind him.

"Thank Billy," he said suavely, sliding his hands into his pockets. "He was the one who sniffed it out."

"Yeah, Billy did it all - he really did," Murdock said from the window, patting at thin air by his knee. "Thanks for saying so, Faceman."

"I think he played his part wonderfully, don't you?" Face said knowingly, and the two of them grinned for a moment.

Debbie moved to rest her hand on the back of the sofa. "This is great, fellas - really."

"Didn't take too long after all," BA said.

"I knew I could count on you," she added. "Oh. You didn't bring the case?"

"Well he would have seen it was missing straight away," Hannibal said, as if should be obvious. "I left it there so he won't think to check it until we're gone."

"You people really are clever," she said, relieved. She put her hand down behind the sofa cushion, pulling out a rather large handgun. "But I'm afraid I have to go now - and take this money with me."

"Aw no," Face groaned. "Why is it always the nice ones?"

"We're more desperate," she said, keeping the gun on Hannibal and BA, gesturing them back from the table. BA growled as they shuffled back out of the way.

Debbie picked up the bag and shouldered it a lot less fluidly than BA had done. "Thanks, boys," she said nervously. "I'm sorry we didn't get past the pancakes, Templeton. Something tells me it would have been… interesting. Be seeing you."

She turned for the door and dashed out.

.


	4. Four

**Four**

.

.

BA looked at the door in disgust. "Come on, Hannibal - she's getting away!" he grumped.

"Actually?" Face said with an absolute ship-load of smugness in his voice, making the room turn to look at him. He lifted his right hand out of his pocket, showing off a small box. "She isn't." He pulled the tiny antenna out to its full length and shook the device slightly.

"Nice," Hannibal grinned.

"Well," the Lieutenant began grandly, "sometimes you get tired of people assuming you're just a pretty face," he moaned on a theatrical sigh.

"You mean you're not?" Murdock said innocently.

Face shot him a look that told tales of great personal injury. Murdock grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Face turned deliberately to look back at Hannibal. "Isn't this the part where we run to the van and chase her down?" he said with a polite smile. "Now that she has a bug in her purse?"

"Go," he ordered, watching the three men scramble out of the room.

.

* * *

.

Debbie unlocked her car quickly, wrenching the door open and throwing the duffel through to the passenger seat. She slid in and started the engine, letting it rev as she pulled the door shut. The car shot out of the parking space toward the road, and she huffed as she filtered into the traffic, keeping her speed down and her nerves under control.

"Men," she tutted, tossing her hair over her shoulder and negotiating the stream of cars to get to the fast lane.

It was a full forty minutes later that she made the ramp that took her to the highway, and within minutes she was speeding along, cranking her window open slightly to ease the nervous heat in her neck.

She glanced up and saw a large black van a few cars back. She scowled, changing lanes and putting her foot down. The van followed suit, perhaps realising it had been spotted. She weaved in and out of the cars, heading to the next off ramp. She zipped down it without even checking for cars in her way, lucky to sprint through the gap before another vehicle took her fender off.

Her beige sedan streaked down the road, its driver checking every few seconds. When she didn't see the van for over a minute, she began to relax slightly. She looked over at the bag of bonds, frowned, and made herself calm down as she drove on.

.

* * *

.

Hannibal leaned forward and picked up the phone, dialling fast with gloved fingers. Murdock watched from the rear passenger seat of the van nervously. At last the line clicked.

"She thinks she's lost us," Hannibal said down the phone. "You still got your tracker? Good. She's all yours, kid." He listened, nodded, and put the phone down. He twisted in the seat to smile at Murdock. "How's the signal on _our_ tracker?"

"Pretty good," Murdock grinned, showing the small box to the Colonel. "She's heading toward the train station, I reckon."

"Sergeant," Hannibal said with an easy slump into the passenger seat, "I think we'd better head to the train station."

"Yeah," BA said with conviction, giving a slight sneer as he checked his mirrors and turned the van down the next street.

.

* * *

.

Debbie pulled into the parking lot, whisking the bag out of the passenger seat and running for the ticket office. She screeched to a halt outside the window, getting her breath back and smiling at the man behind the glass. "Hi," she said hurriedly. "One-way ticket, please."

"Where to?" he grumped, looking her up and down.

"The next state."

"Which state?"

"Any state!" she cried, annoyed. "Sorry - look - anywhere that's not here."

The man tutted, looked down at the timetable under his fingers, and began to check. She bit her lip, watching the car park carefully, but no black van entered the parking lot. The man was still checking as she noticed a dark blue Chevy and then a white Corvette with a single red stripe pull into the car park. They both meandered about, looking for spaces, so she ignored them to look back at the man in the booth.

"Sir?" she asked. "Any time, sir."

"Here," he groused, pulling out the ticket and sliding it toward the access hole in the glass. "That's thirty-seven dollars even, miss."

"Oh, right." She dropped the duffel to her feet, pulling her handbag over her shoulder and opening it hastily. She rifled through, finding her purse and wrenching it open. Two twenty dollar bills and a small, coin-shaped item sprang out and landed on the ground. She tutted and bent down, scooping them all up. She slid the two notes under the glass to the man as she inspected the smooth round item that appeared to be an oversized watch battery.

"There you go. Leaves in five minutes, you'll have to hurry," came the man's voice as he pushed the ticket and three one-dollar notes through the aperture. "Have a safe trip, miss."

"Yeah," she managed, forgetting the strange item as she snatched up the money and ticket, stuffing the notes in her pocket and turning to look over at the train platform. She spotted the first train, looked down at her ticket, and then made a run for it.

She wedged her way up through the open door at the end of the last carriage, manhandling the duffel and her handbag through in front of her. She negotiated the slim corridor, heading down the walkway as fast as she could. She crossed into the next car, finding the first door on the right and looking in. Empty and inviting, she slid the door back and pushed herself and her baggage in, aiming for the seat and letting herself fall into it.

She looked at the duffel next to her and blew out a sigh. She leaned toward it but her handbag slid and slumped to the floor. She tutted and bent down to pick it up.

"Can I help you there, miss?" said a pleasant voice, but she just grabbed at it.

"No thanks," she said curtly, looking at the shoes in her line of sight.

"Here, let me," continued the voice. The next moment she realised the duffel was being lifted from the seat. She gasped and looked up, finding a very handsome excuse for a stranger stepping back through the doorway, her duffel over his shoulder.

"Templeton!" she accused, leaping to her feet.

Face simply grinned, sliding the door shut, his hand snapping the emergency latch down to prevent it from opening.

She slapped at the window. "Let me out!" she ordered. "You don't understand!"

"Something tells me I'll be a lot safer if I don't," he said wisely.

"When I get out of here I'll be looking for you!" she hurled.

"Join the club," he said with a smug wink. "Be seeing you." He waved entirely condescendingly at her before he turned and disappeared from the window.

She growled and beat at the glass, yanking on the handle to try to slide it open. It creaked and jerked, but would not budge. She stood back and thought for a long moment. Then she went back to slapping and shouting at the window in the vain hope that someone would hear her.

.

* * *

.

Face walked across the car park slowly enough, whistling to himself as he swerved around his car, leaning over and dropping the duffel in the passenger seat. He looked up as a throaty _chug-chug-chug_ told him a large Chevy van was pulling into the parking lot. He folded his arms, smiled, and leaned back on the driver's door of his Corvette.

The van pulled into the space next to him, the side door rolling open even as Hannibal's head popped out from the passenger window.

"Well?" he asked quickly.

Face chucked a thumb over his shoulder at the bag. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Oh man, you're like - like-" Murdock began in a rush, trying to find words. "You're like Billy! But with less legs!"

"Thanks," Face managed, a little disconcerted, before he turned and lifted the bag from the seat. He tossed it at Murdock in the back of the van, who caught it and unzipped it.

"Where's Debbie?" Hannibal added.

Face grinned, turned, and pointed at the train now moving away from the wide platform about fifty yards behind the chainlink fence. "On her way to… Kansas, I think. The door to her booth's stuck shut. It's a terrible thing."

Murdock grinned, zipping up the checked duffel and adjusting his cap. "So what now?"

"Now we make a phonecall to the police at the next station - and find out whose this money is supposed to be," Hannibal said decisively.

"And then we start our vacation," BA asserted.

"Absolutely," Hannibal said cheerfully, nodding at the man in the driver's seat.

"Hey, Face, can I ride with you?" Murdock said excitedly. "I got lots to tell you - Sal's been coaching me on my shyness."

"If you want," Face said warily.

"Cool - and Billy, too."

"Woah woah woah," Face said, his hands up quickly. "No dogs in my car, Murdock."

"But he likes you! He thinks you're cool!"

"That's - ah - great," Face allowed, his eyes sliding right to find Hannibal's very wide shit-eating grin directed at him. He tutted and looked back at Murdock. "But I can't have dog hair on my seats, you know? Kind of puts a damper on the whole 'sports car' thing."

"Awww!" Murdock protested. "He'll be very clean?"

"He's a dog," Face shot back. "They don't know how to be clean."

"Shut up Face, you're encouraging him!" BA ordered from the front seat, making Hannibal chuckle. "And shut that door, too! The sooner we're gone, the sooner we can get to our vacation!"

Murdock glowered at Face, pulling his knees back from the door of the van and sliding it shut. Face had time to shrug helplessly before the door whammed closed. He sighed, turned away from the van, and walked around his car, sliding into the driver's seat. He watched the black van reverse out and then leave, and then leaned over for the phone.

.

* * *

.

The knock at the door surprised the two men, and Mr Spencer, who all looked up rather nervously. Spencer nodded to one of the men, and he got up and crossed to the door.

"Security again, sir," he said.

"Let him in. We get rid of him, then leave this crazy place."

"Yes sir." He opened the door cautiously.

The white-haired man in the hotel jacket smiled cheerfully. "Good afternoon. May I speak with Mr Spencer, please?"

The man stepped back, allowing him entry, and he walked in to find the man in the Hawaiian shirt watching him carefully.

"What do you want?"

"Relax, Mr Spencer," Hannibal said knowingly, unbuttoning the jacket and taking a seat on the couch. "I have something that belongs to you. I'm here to give it back." He slid a cigar out from the shirt pocket.

"What?" he blurted, then snapped his fingers at the men in the room.

"Five hundred thousand dollars in bonds?" Hannibal ventured. "Don't worry, we've counted it and it's all there. The lovely Debbie Winters - if that was even her name - asked us to steal it from you. We did. We're here to bring it back."

"What!" he raged, getting to his feet. "What is this?"

They heard a knock on the open door and turned to see Face smiling his way into the room.

"Hi. Hope I'm not interrupting anything." He felt in his trouser pocket for a notebook, flipping it open to peer at it. "Let's see… Debbie Winters, A.K.A. Deborah _Spencer_ before she was married to Frank Winters. Who was found in the river a few months back. Debbie was charged with manslaughter but paid bail and then skipped the state, taking everything from the company safe with her… her _father's_ company, Mr Daniel Spencer." He looked up, flipping the notebook closed and meeting the man's eyes. "I'm assuming that's you?"

"Who are you people? Are you going to start on that dog again?"

"Mr Spencer," Hannibal said patiently, feeling in his trouser pocket for a lighter. "We just had your daughter arrested at the train station and came here to bring your company bonds back. Now, if you don't want them, then-"

"No, no!" he said quickly, falling into the chair behind him. "I just…" He sagged, putting his head in his hands. "I never really believed she did it, but… But she paid her bail with money from I-don't-know-where - my accountant thinks it's from Joe Stone's account, but-"

"Joe Stone?" Face prompted. "As in, Stone and Winters Ceramics, Limited?"

"Him," Spencer nodded. "First he dies, then Frank… and the next minute the police are telling me to take a vacation while they try and track down my bail-jumping daughter."

"Well she's in custody, Mr Spencer, and we have your bonds," Hannibal reassured him. He looked at Face, putting a hand out, and Face felt in his trouser pocket. He pulled out a lighter and handed it over. "Nice research, Lieutenant," Hannibal beamed.

"Well what else are carphones and Triple As for?" he beamed smugly, rocking on his heels. He looked at the Hawaiian shirt. "You know, Mambo do a very good line in those shirts. Only better," he observed.

Spencer just turned a withering look on him.

"Right," Face allowed uneasily, nodding to Hannibal and going for the hotel room door again. "I'll get the bag."

"Thanks," Hannibal grinned. He bit the top off the cigar, spitting it to the carpet. He looked back at Mr Spencer. "This must seem pretty awkward," he said pleasantly. "Us stealing your money and then bringing it back. Sorry about your daughter. We actually believed her. For a while."

"Well you would," Spencer sighed, before looking up. "Seeing as she was right. Thanks for letting me know she's at the first Kansas railroad station on the line, probably in police custody."

Hannibal's smile faded to be replaced with rather cold umbrage.

Spencer snapped his fingers at the man closest to him. "Phone," he ordered. "Have someone find her. And get rid of her. Then we deal with these clowns. Honestly - how many people do I have to kill to keep hold of this company?"

The man began to dial.

Hannibal began to plan.

.


	5. Five

**Five**

.

.

.

Spencer pushed himself up, going to the table under the window and pulling out the case now bereft of five hundred thousand dollars in bonds. "Little light," he said pointedly. "But not too light." He opened it and pulled out a rather large, shiny handgun. "Nice, don't you think?"

"Face has one the same," Hannibal sniffed, unimpressed. "Actually? I think his is bigger," he said with a maddening smile, flicking the lighter open and flaring it at the end of his cigar.

Spencer set the case back down, turning the weapon on the older man. "Funny. Now when your friend comes back with the bonds, we can _accident_ you two to death and I can finally get my company back."

"Your company?" Hannibal pressed, drawing the now smoking cigar from his mouth. "I thought it belonged to Mr Stone and Frank - whom, I think, you also killed."

"They were in my way," Spencer grunted. "I own the controlling share in the event of the three deaths - Joe and Frank were easy. The only reason I didn't kill _her_ was cos she was family. Look how that turned out."

"It's so hard to keep all your ducks in a row, huh?" Hannibal commiserated.

"Well at least the police still think she did it, thanks to my careful planning - and she _did_ run after paying bail. Kind of makes her look guilty without my 'help', don't you think?" Spencer sneered.

Hannibal frowned, his mind whirling. There was a noise at the door and all four men looked up as Face trotted back into the room, the duffle in his hand.

"Yep, it's all there," he said cheerfully. "Counted it myself."

"Good," Spencer said, the gun rather garish against the front of the Hawaiian shirt.

Face looked at him with a smile - which dropped like a lead balloon as he looked the man up and down and spotted the weapon. "Aw _no_," he groaned.

"Oh yeah," Spencer countered. He looked at Hannibal. "Now my two men, and you and Pretty Boy here are going to take a ride. Only, you two won't be coming back."

He waved to the open door. Face chucked his free thumb at it in a question. Spencer's gun waved again. Face groaned and turned to the door, Hannibal following him, the three men bringing up the rear.

.

* * *

.

Murdock picked at the material of the seat of the van, rubbing his fingers over the covering. He turned suddenly as if poked, grinning and patting at thin air. "Don't you worry, Billy," he said confidently. "We'll have all this straightened out soon, and then you can run around by that big cabin up there. How'd you like that, huh?"

"Murdock," BA warned from the driver's seat. "I told you to quit it!"

Murdock put a finger to his lips, bowing his head down toward the seat next to him in the back. He brought his right hand out of his pocket stealthily, revealing a round papered soap in his palm. "It's ok you two," he whispered. "I'm taking you on holiday whether BA likes it or not. The three of us can share a room and he'll never know."

"Murdock," BA growled, leaning back round the seat - but suddenly he looked past the pilot and out through the open side door of the van. "What the-. Aw, what now?" he complained.

Murdock looked over to find two men - each built like a hotel complex in Vegas - and Spencer approaching, with Face and Hannibal out in front. Face was clutching the duffle, and had the concept of Unfair had its very own Oscar category, his expression would have won hands-down.

The five men stopped by a large blue Ford, Spencer looking around the parking lot surreptitiously.

"Now," he said slowly. "Give me my bonds. Then you go in the car."

Face moaned. "Isn't there some way we can come to a-"

"Give it to him," Hannibal interrupted.

"Five hundred thousand dollars, Colonel!" Face protested.

"Give the nice man his money, Lieutenant," Hannibal said politely, looking at his feet and judging distances.

"Oh _man_!" Face moaned. "Sometimes this whole helping-people-out thing really makes me wish I'd stayed in bed."

"Let him have it," Hannibal said deliberately.

Face looked at him, then at Spencer. The duffle was shoved into Spencer's chest. Hannibal was already belting a man across the face. As Spencer fought off the bulky bag, Face was grabbing for his gun and wrenching it free. He turned it on him, grinning at the unexpected luck. Until he was smashed in the face by a third man from his right.

Murdock sprang out of the van and ran across the car park. He swung the big man around and thumped him in the eye for all he was worth. It was less than the man was expecting and he simply grabbed Murdock by the bomber jacket and hurled him out of the way. He reached for the fallen gun.

Face got to his feet and then his head snapped to the left to find a car next to him. He grinned, scrabbled up onto the boot of the Ford, and launched himself at the larger man. They went down in a heap, Face's elbow going into his throat in a way that made the man lie very still and move breathing to the top of his list of priorities. Face pushed himself back to his feet, pulling his sweater straight and feeling mighty pleased.

He heard Murdock shout and looked up to find him leaping onto the back of the other man. He appeared to have Hannibal by the arms. Face made a move but Spencer's hand pulled him back. He ducked the swing of a fist, bobbing up and striking back.

"BA!" he shouted, knowing without a doubt that he would be sitting in the van, watching like it was Monday Night Football. "Little help here!"

"There's only three of them, Faceman!" BA shouted back, a chuckle in his voice.

Face caught a nasty punch to the gut and dropped to the tarmac on his hands and knees, wheezing. "They're using up valuable vacation time!"

BA's growl was audible from even there. He hurled himself out of the van and before Face could even get up, BA had crossed the parking lot and grabbed Spencer from above him. He lifted and the man was tossed over his head in a graceful arc, landing on the roof of the blue Ford.

Face got up, dusting himself off as he watched Hannibal help Murdock off the ground by his elbow, the two men having successfully floored the last quarterback in a suit. Hannibal bent down to retrieve his fallen cigar. It was half crushed, bent up cruelly in the middle. He pouted at it, but Face was already wandering over, putting a hand down inside his Argyle sweater to pull a silver container out of the breast pocket of his shirt. He unscrewed the mini canister to let a fresh cigar slide out.

Hannibal grinned, taking it from him and looking at it appreciatively. "Officer thinking, Lieutenant," he grinned.

"What do we do with these guys?" Face asked, pushing the canister in his pocket.

Hannibal bit the end off his cigar, spitting it really quite close to Mr Spencer on the ground. "I think it would only be polite to call the police, don't you? To put straight who _did_ actually kill the other two owners of the company in the first place."

"Yeah - what about Debbie?" Face asked innocently.

"Once this guy sings, she'll be free - and she'll get her money back. She'll have to make do with a note from you, explaining why you had her arrested and stole her case," Hannibal said cheerfully, patting his shoulder before walking off.

"Wait - _I_ didn't have her arrested, you-." Face huffed, then pointed accusingly. "And _you_ told me to steal the-"

"Vacation!" BA interrupted angrily.

Face put his hands up. "Ok, Ok," he said quickly. "I'll make a few calls, get the police station on the case, get the money turned over, set these guys up for murder one."

"You're an organisational whirlwind," Hannibal grinned.

Face sighed. "Five hundred thousand dollars," he added to himself.

"Get to it, Lieutenant," Hannibal said neatly. "We need to get our gear packed and out of this hotel. We can't be here when the police arrive. And we _do_ have a cabin to get to."

.

* * *

.

Murdock came racing round the side of the van, skidding in his Converse before he bumped into the Corvette parked alongside. He leaned over and grabbed the shoulder of Face's sweater, tugging insistently.

"Murdock! What?" he protested, already batting him off his clothes.

"Have you seen Billy?" he cried in fear. "Have you seen him?"

"He's _invisible_," Face intoned, his entire frame sagging under the weight of realisation. "I've never _seen_ him."

"You know what I mean!" Murdock hurled, clearly panicked.

Face pushed him back before getting out of the car, closing the door quietly. "Just calm down," he urged. "Where did you see him last?"

Murdock gripped his shoulders, shaking him like a rag doll. "He was in the hotel room and I told him not to pee on your shoes but he wouldn't listen to me so I shouted and I think he's upset and maybe he's run away again!" he wailed.

Face made an effort to push Murdock off, but Murdock just kept shaking. "Don't - Can you - look - stop-. Murdock!" he raged, heaving him off him at last. "Listen to me! He's just a dog! And he's not even _real_!"

"How can you say-"

"Wait - he peed on my shoes?" Face interrupted suddenly.

"Maybe a little," Murdock managed in a very small voice.

"And you _let him_?" Face demanded, outraged.

"I told you, I shouted at him not to-"

Hannibal and BA rounded the side of the van to see the two men grappling and growling at each other. Hannibal simply folded his arms, chuckling as the two of them swore vengeance and attempted to somehow throttle the other. BA was less amused.

"Cut it out!" he ordered, and the two men froze. They looked over at him, then back at each other. Then they pushed each other away smartly, Face running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat, pulling his sweater straight and pretending he had not just been playground fighting. Murdock straightened his bomber jacket, adjusting his cap and looking at everyone guiltily.

"Are we ready to head for the hills?" Hannibal said, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Or would you two like another round before we reach the cabin and peace and quiet?"

"Let's go," Face grumped, eyeing Murdock before reaching for the car door.

Murdock stepped back humbly, flicking his eyes up to Hannibal with shame and a championship-winning set of puppy eyes. "Colonel? Can I ride in the van? I don't think Face likes me any more."

Hannibal sighed, walking over and patting him on the shoulder. "Look at it this way, Murdock," he said wisely, "Billy's taken himself off for a little holiday, and Face's 'Vette only has two seats." He patted, lifting his cigar in his gloved hand to wave it slightly toward the white car. "You've already lost Billy - for now. Do you want Face to stay mad at you?"

"Well-"

"He did get you that _Space Invaders_ arcade unit for your room in the VA hospital."

"Yeah, but-"

"And he did help you find Billy in Spencer's room."

"I know, but-"

"So let's get going. BA wants to get to the cabin in the hills." He patted once, then let his hand drop.

Murdock turned resolutely on the balls of his feet, finding Face in the driver's seat, staring straight ahead. He appeared to be muttering to himself, his head shaking slightly.

"Face?" he called nervously.

"Hmm?" he blurted, turning his head to look up at him. "What now? Are you going to let Billy chew my shoes again? Pee on them? Cos I've got to say, I'm getting a little tired of all this 'Billy' stuff."

"I know," Murdock replied quietly. He went around the car to the passenger door, putting his hands on it and leaning on them. "But he's gone. And I need my friends, so… Can I ride with you?"

Face looked at him, trying to keep on the angry side of indignant, but the look on Murdock's face and the knowledge that Billy only existed to bolster the man's lack of confidence made him heave a huge, regretful sigh.

"Ok," he allowed. Murdock grinned and began to open the door. "But!" Face interrupted, his finger up at him in warning. "No talking about Billy, Thermy, your Dr. Strangelove glove or monkeys!"

"Okie dokie," he chirped. "I've still got Sal." He raised the small round soap in his hand, his voice changing to a gruff, warning growl: "What's this dude got against us animated objects?"

"Why do I even try," Face groaned, his hand slapping over his eye socket so loudly it made BA look over.

"Don't be starting on that trip," BA warned quickly, grabbing Murdock's shoulder. "You upset Face, you'll have to ride with us - and I don't like your soap!"

"But he's lovely! And he talks like you!" Murdock protested, even as Hannibal began to laugh.

BA growled and grabbed for the soap in his hand. Murdock yelped and raised his hand higher.

"Help! Help!" Murdock shouted.

"Gimme that!" BA growled, trying to grab at his wrist.

"Face! Help!" he cried, flicking the soap to his left. It sailed through the air. Face stretched his hand out and caught it - just about. Then he grinned, put his left hand to the rollbar of the car, and levered himself up. He drew his arm back as BA let go of Murdock, already smiling.

"No!" Murdock pleaded.

"_I've gotta be freeee!_" Face sang suddenly, grinning, before heaving his shoulder back even further, "_I've gotta be meeee!_" And he pitched the soap over his arm with a snap that sent it flying an unimaginable distance across the open countryside. He cupped the side of his mouth with his right hand. "If you find Billy, let us know!"

Murdock just looked at Face, his mouth hanging open. BA chuckled, turning to the van and going around the other side, opening the driver's door and climbing in. Hannibal patted Murdock's shoulder and got back into the passenger seat. Murdock just stared, as Face slid back down into the driver's seat and looked up at him with an air of smug accomplishment.

"Choose a vehicle," he said simply, with a wide smile that showed all of his pearly whites.

The far away sounds of police sirens made them all turn their heads toward the road from the south, and Murdock make up his mind. He pouted in petulance, turning and shoving the door closed on the van. Then he went around and leapt over the passenger door of the Corvette, settling himself in the seat.

"Fine," he asserted, his arms folded in abject unfairness. "But I'm listening to your radio." He leaned forward and snapped it on, and as the two vehicles reversed out of the parking lot, Murdock found a station he liked.

The black van headed out, leaving the sports car to follow, the two men already arguing.

"Murdock - no! Do not change the pre-set stations!"

"No listen! Listen! They're playing his song!" Murdock countered. He drew in a deep breath and began to sing along with the radio: "_Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life!_"

"Oh boy," Face moaned to himself, already wishing the cabin were around the next corner.

.

**FIN**

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* * *

_**And that's a wrap. Hope you enjoyed some part of it! Seriously don't know if I'll ever do another, but it would certainly be fun. :) Thanks for reading - and for all your reviews! They're ALL taken to heart. :)**_


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